The Barbarians We Make
She is 76. They, much younger. They are talking, or trying to.
She, speaking. They, staring.
What happens when a generation no longer comprehends the other? Their struggles, their pain, their stories.
What happens when the youth are told how it used to be, or when the time comes where reading about 'it' is the only option, and still, they fail to understand?
Foreign concepts, all of them. So removed from perception, all of them. Stories, all of them, even when yesteryear is willing to teach, patiently.
What happens when crisis becomes permanent?
An earning no longer exists. A better tomorrow, unattainable. Mounting dues become perpetual. The concept of us, lost. Cohesion comes unglued.
She, stuck in a gone fantasy, a better past - one of order, responsibilities, and shared duties. For her, this is awfully different.
They, living in a new reality, a pugnacious present - one of lawlessness, despair, and broken homes. For them, this is strangely normal.
She, a relic of the old society - educated and full of knowledge. Useless. They, all rejects of the affluent society - ignoramus and barbaric. Indispensable.
She continues to speak, guiding, warning. They, still not listening.
The decay continues, albeit slowly. No one is noticing.